


Recovery

by HardGarbage



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Dom!Hanzo - Freeform, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hanzo takes care of Mccree but Mccree takes care of Hanzo too, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overstimulation, Sub!McCree - Freeform, the vast majority of this fic is dedicated to aftercare folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardGarbage/pseuds/HardGarbage
Summary: An overstimulated McCree has a bad experience from which both he and Hanzo must recover.





	

It was coming, as it had so, _so_  many other times in the last…two hours? Three? Six? Jesse had no way of knowing. He nearly swayed, thighs trembling violently around the sybian he sat atop, the wide appendage attached to it vibrating painfully inside him, a vibrating nub in front of it had his balls so tight he thought they might pop. He couldn’t sway though. His wrists were tied carefully to his ankles. Anytime his abdomen, cramping and weak from hold him up so long, threatened to give out and send him toppling forward, the resistance in his arms and shoulders kept him upright. The front of the sybian, the floor in front of it, his own stomach, were all dripping with cum from the seemingly countless orgasms he’d experienced. 

Hanzo was skilled, practiced. They had done this many times before. Today Hanzo had prepared him lovingly, touched every inch of his body softly and sweetly before tying him up and slapping every surface of his skin until he was completely pink and sensitive. Every touch might have been a thousand. Hanzo had toyed with him then, dragging fingers over his goose-pimpled skin for nearly an hour until Jesse gasped and came, unbidden, cock untouched. It was the first of many. When Jesse had had the capacity, he’d wondered if what followed was punishment for his unapproved orgasm. It may have been. 

Now, hours later, he could think of nothing but what was building in him, again. Hanzo, somewhere, was murmuring a dark, throaty praise which Jesse could not understand over the haze which clouded his thoughts. It was coming. He gasped and drooled and could say nothing, could feel nothing but how impossibly taut his dick was even after so long, how raw and sensitive his insides were, still berated with the unstoppable force of the vibrator which resided there, the pain, the pain. It hurt, after so much of it, the ecstacy. Every ounce of pleasure was supplemented by an equal counterpart of pain. Not only physical pain, like that in his wrists, ankles, shoulders, stomach, but an interior one as well. Too much, too sensitive, too much. His thoughts squirmed and shuddered with the intensity of it, just as his thighs did.

But this time, as he sat there unable to do anything to prepare for what was to follow, the pain began to overcome the pleasure. The psychological intensity began to overtake him. Too much, too sensitive. The vibrator buzz continued, Hanzo’s rumbling thunder of a voice continued, and inside Jesse was beginning to panic. Not again. Not again. Too much, _too much_. His thoughts raced– _too much, no, no, no, too, too much, no, no_ –his breath came hard and fast through gritted teeth. Hanzo was cooing sweetly for Jesse’s oncoming orgasm, but Jesse was lost to him. Drool spilled unabashedly from his mouth, his eyes rolled behind their lids– _no, no, no, too much, too much, no_. He felt his orgasm approaching him like you anticipated a baseball bat to the stomach. He couldn’t, not this time, couldn’t withstand it, wouldn’t survive it, he thought, if this were allowed to continue. Just short of release, he screamed, broken and slurred–

“ _G-GIBRALT-T-TOR!”_

The vibrator snapped off and hands were on him in an instant, a soft voice spoke worriedly nearby. But it was already too late. It had come.

The orgasm shattered through him and everything went white. His vision, his thoughts, his skin, even, paled from its former hot blush. He couldn’t breathe. Air caught in his throat again and again, as though he was choking on it. He practically seized in Hanzo’s arms, eyes rolling back, his tongue threatening to get bitten in the chaos as it lolled out of his mouth. Noises tumbled out of him, garbled and wet, some incomprehensible, some perhaps words, a name, as his cock twitched through the dry and searing orgasm which had lit him with such a cold, bright, all-encompasing fire. 

“–reathe. Breathe, Jesse.”

Besides the burning and the white, it was the only thought he had. _Breathe_. He tried to comply. Air shuddered into him in time with his own trembling. And again. Now he could feel Hanzo’s arms relax around him, felt a nervous exhale pass through his hair.

“Good. That’s good. Just breathe.”

He did. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. As air returned to him, so did his senses. First: exhaustion. Without the impossible tension of pleasure holding his every muscle taut he found himself too weak even to care about the pain that shot through his shoulders as he slouched forward, unable to hold himself upright. Hanzo drew closer to him, took on his weight, and Jesse was putty in his arms. As he slumped against Hanzo’s broad chest, shaking and breathing, his sense of touch returned to him. Too much, too sensitive. Even Hanzo’s hand running softly through his hair while he cooed praise in Jesse’s ear was too much. Too much. 

He began to cry. First silently, then in weak hiccups and moans which prompted Hanzo to pull him closer, inciting more tears. The hand left his hair and he could feel Hanzo working at the knot around Jesse’s wrists behind his back, trying for calm but too hurried and clumsy. Hanzo got one arm free and was careful to lower it gently to his side, Jesse still weeping into his shoulder. Then his other arm was free and lowered slowly. Jesse’s shoulders ached, and he cried for this too.

“Jesse.” Hanzo’s voice was soft but firm. “I’d like to carry you to the bed now, but that will mean removing you from the sybian. Do you understand?”

Jesse’s hole still pulsed around the vibrator and he choked on a sob at the thought of it moving again. But everything hurt and he was so _tired_. He couldn’t stay here. He nodded into the crook of Hanzo’s neck.

“Alright. I’m going to put some lube around the entrance to help remove it. Do not be startled.”

Jesse nodded again, tears still tumbling out of his eyes.

He heard a cap snap open, then a warm hand glide on the underside of his shuddering thigh, a warning. Jesse gasped at the slick cold and found his hand raised and grasping at the fabric of Hanzo’s pants.

Hanzo’s hand eased away from him. “Jesse? Are you ready? We can wait. There is no hurry.”

Jesse’s grasp tightened on Hanzo’s pants, but he nodded.

“Very well. Prepare yourself.”

Hanzo’s arms wound under Jesse’s and grasped each other behind his back. Hanzo gave him a reassuring squeeze, then began to lift. Jesse cried out, but this time Hanzo did not stop to question him, knowing that the process had already begun, and stopping in the middle of it would only cause Jesse more distress. Jesse cried harder, trembling and gasping, as he was finally pulled free.

“It is ok, my sweet. You are ok. Breathe.”

There was a moment of pause, of adjustment, of breathing. Only when Jesse’s breath began to even out, Hanzo spoke again.

“I’m going to carry you to the bed now. You do not need to assist me. Be still.”

Jesse nodded, concentrating on his breath. He was ok.

Hanzo lifted him upright, and Jesse found it almost funny that Hanzo even suggested Jesse _could_  assist him. His legs would bear none of his weight. His hips ached at being held open so long. His ankles were still tied together. Then Hanzo lifted him up into a bridal carry with a huff and carried him to lay slowly and softly on the already-prepared bed. 

Jesse shuddered into relaxation as Hanzo worked at the ropes around his ankles, finally pulling them free. Carefully, he pulled his ankles apart to splay his legs more comfortably, though Jesse groaned at the movement. Normally, Hanzo would massage the rope marks before any other aftercare, but he seemed to sense that Jesse’s sensitivity was wide spread, likely to interpret any touch, no matter how gentle, as pain. Instead he opened a small, insulated box nearby and pulled from it a pleasantly hot and damp towel. Prior to this, Jesse had teased him for the seemingly unnecessary gadget, but now was thankful that Hanzo did not have to leave him to go to the bathroom in order to wipe the slick and sweat from his stomach and thighs. 

As the towel trailed over him, Jesse groaned and his browed knitted tightly together. Even this was hard to bear. Hanzo made quick work of it.

In an attempt to dampen Jesse’s flayed nerves, Hanzo then swaddled him in the large, soft blanket on which Jesse laid. He was safe, spared from all touch, and the warmth began to work away at his trembling. Then Hanzo settled against the headboard and pulled the mound of Jesse and blanket to rest between his knees, against his chest. As Jesse sighed, Hanzo reached up to wipe his face free of drool and tears, still whispering praise and love into his ear. Jesse may already have been asleep.

 

* * *

 

He woke in a fever-like haze. His thoughts seemed to stumble out of whatever he had been dreaming and only very gradually did he realize he was awake at all. He was warm, hot even, but he couldn’t will himself to lift his arms and free himself of the cocoon he’d been swaddled into. Every inch of him ached. Mostly his shoulders, his hips and his stomach, and there was a nausea brewing under the present calm. Boy, he’d really done it this time.

It was then that he realized he was still cradled to Hanzo’s chest. A hand was sweeping softly through his hair. How long had he been asleep?

When he opened his eyes it was dark but for the soft lighting in the corner of the room, still directed at the lonely and filthy sybian. Normally, by now, Hanzo would have cleaned up a little, put the toys away, lit a candle. Instead Jesse felt Hanzo’s hand move over and over again through his hair, felt the rise and fall of Hanzo’s chest. He looked up.

It was hard to tell if Hanzo’s face was more pensive than usual as he stared into the distance. His brow was certainly knit, his mouth tugged into a scowl, neither of which were unusual, but there was something in the glint of Hanzo’s eyes that worried Jesse.

“H…Hanzo.” His voice was hoarse and harsh, soft, like he’d lost it to a cold.

Hanzo started, eyes widening, then peered down into Jesse’s still half-lidded eyes and cast him a smile that warmed Jesse’s very soul. “Ah, hello. I did not expect you back so soon. How are you feeling?” As he spoke Hanzo continued to run his fingers through Jesse’s hair, and his other hand came to wrap protectively over Jesse’s blanketed chest.

“’m alright.” Jesse coughed, trying to clear the hesitation out of his voice. “How long was I out?”

“Hmm,” Hanzo seemed to settle down further, pulling Jesse closer to him, and looking again off into the distance, “Only an hour or so. I expected you to sleep much longer.”

“Ya been sittin’ here like this fer an hour?” Jesse raised an eyebrow at him.

Hanzo hummed. “Yes.” He looked back down at Jesse, his gaze overwhelmingly fond. “I did not want to leave you.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” He wished he could huddle closer to Hanzo. Wished he could will himself to move, to tumble out of the blanket, to lay against Hanzo’s chest. But he couldn’t. The exhaustion held him still. Instead, he set to trying to identify whatever unsettling thing lay behind Hanzo’s eyes.

“Tell me how you are feeling, Jesse.” Hanzo said softly, lovingly, but his hand stopped in Jesse hair and something cold began to coil in Jesse’s stomach.

“’m okay babe, rea–”

“Jesse.” Hanzo interrupted. “This is important.”

Jesse sighed. There was no point in fighting it. “I’m…tired. Sore. A…a little nauseous.”

“I see,” Hanzo replied seriously. “I should have had you drink some water before you slept. I apologize. I will get some for you in a moment.”

There it was again, that look. 

“Hanzo–”

“I am sorry, Jesse,” Hanzo said suddenly, his voice dropped low, “that I did not recognize your distress sooner.” He glared at the end of the bed. “It should not have come to that.”

“’s alright sweetheart, it wasn’t all that bad–”

“–Jesse–”

“–’s not like I wasn’t enjoyin’ myself up until–”

“–you _wept_.”

Jesse went quiet at that. He began to recognize the look in Hanzo’s eyes.

“Never, in all our sessions, in any of our lovemaking, have you wept. This was the first.” Hanzo’s voice took on an unexpected heat, a simmering anger, “And I do not think it was for joy.” He rested his cheek against Jesse’s warm temple, and Jesse could feel him grit his teeth. Then, a sigh. His hand resumed the smoothing of Jesse’s hair. “You trusted me with your care,” Hanzo said sadly, “and yet I let such an ugly thing befall you. I am sorry.”

“Hanzo,” Jesse pleaded, “it ain’t like that darlin’. I shoulda tapped out a mite sooner is all. It ain’t that bad.”

“ _No?_ ” Hanzo’s voice was high, incredulous, angry. “So you were not seizing in my arms, unable to breathe? You did not beg me, repeatedly, to make it stop, and I was not completely powerless to do so?”

“Now wait just a minute, I didn’–” The thought stopped halfway through. He remembered a glimpse of Hanzo’s eyes, his own overwhelming helplessness, knew that he had said something that sharped Hanzo’s carefully calm facade into genuine worry.

“I…” Hanzo shook his head against Jesse’s face and sighed again. “I apologize, I did not mean to berate you, especially while you are still recovering. Allow me a moment to get you some water. I will return shortly.”

“Hanzo–” Jesse was beginning to struggle against the blanket, trying to free his sore arms to reach for him, to call him back, but with every movement his muscles jumped sporadically and pain bit at him. Hanzo slipped easily out from under him and off the bed before Jesse could even worm a hand up from his side to his chest. He was left immobile in his cocoon as Hanzo padded off to the bathroom. 

Jesse relaxed again and sighed wearily. He hadn’t expected this. Hanzo was always so cool and calm about their “sessions” and everything that happened within them. Even when things went awry, when Jesse used the safeword, when they had to stop in the middle of what was obviously a very carefully orchestrated game because Jesse could not withstand it, Hanzo maintained his composure. This was new territory for both of them.

Hanzo returned with a glass full of water and ignored any indication that Jesse would like to be freed from his blanket. Instead he lifted Jesse to sit upright with one hand, offering the glass to his lips with the other. While Jesse was embarrassed, he didn’t argue, just opened his mouth and drank. He drained the glass, more slowly than he would have liked with Hanzo repeatedly making him stop to catch his breath or slow down, and without a word Hanzo lay Jesse back down and returned to the bathroom for more.

This time, when Hanzo reentered the room, Jesse put a pleading look in his eyes as he wriggled in the confines of his wrapping, and had Hanzo huffing a laugh as he set the glass aside. Hanzo unwrapped him and then, with a loving smile, began the work that would normally have ensued after such a session. 

The massage was more tender and gentle than was Jesse had grown used to. Hanzo began with what remained of the marks on his wrists and ankles, then worked his legs, careful of his thighs which jumped when pressed with any real weight. He tended to both Jesse’s arms, then took up a seat behind Jesse’s head to reach under him and pull at the muscles of Jesse’s back from below. Retaining his seat, he reached down over Jesse’s hairy chest, kneading his pectorals and the bouncing muscle and flab over his stomach. Jesse’s eyes had long been closed when Hanzo began to massage his face and scalp. He opened them and smiled up at Hanzo, just as he was pinching Jesse’s cheeks. 

Hanzo returned the smile. “How are you feeling?”

Jesse closed his eyes and his chest reverberated with a deep hum. He reached up and placed a hand on Hanzo’s where it lounged against his face, then nuzzled his face into it, humming again.

“Jesse,” Hanzo chuckled, but Jesse just keep humming and nuzzling. “Jesse, please,” Hanzo said, his free hand sweeping a stray hair from Jesse’s face, “answer the question.”

“’m jus’ dandy, darlin,” Jesse slurred, chuckling into Hanzo’s palm. “Got a right beautiful man takin’ care of me.”

Hanzo smoothed his hair back, ignored him, “Are you still sore? Nauseous?”

“’m _fine_.” Jesse mewled, indignant. He turned on his side and rubbed his face into Hanzo’s hand, like he was trying to scratch an itch on his nose.

“Jesse–” Hanzo warned, pulling at Jesse’s hair.

“Really, sweetheart.” Jesse looked up at him, wound his fingers awkwardly between Hanzo’s. “’m really ok. Might request somethin’ a little more vanilla for our next few get-togethers, but that’s just cuz I gotta be able to feel my legs for work.”

Hanzo looked down at him, still serious behind a half-hearted smile. Jesse turned onto his back again, his head pillowed on Hanzo’s lap, and lifted a shaky arm up to Hanzo’s face to stroke his cheek. Hanzo caught his hand and pressed it there.

“’s ok. Really.”

Hanzo sighed, closed his eyes, nuzzled only slightly into Jesse’s palm. “Ok,” he said, “Alright.”

Jesse smiled. He dropped his arm exaggeratedly to his side and huffed a sigh of his own, “Good! I need to sleep for a solid ten hours and I can’t exactly do that knowin’ yer gonna be up all night _broodin’_.”

Hanzo scowled and swatted Jesse’s forehead. “I am not _brooding_. I was worried about you, fool.” 

“Ouch!” Jesse rubbed at his forehead. “Hey, what happened to all them tender touches from a minute ago? Ain’t I still recoverin’ or whatnot?”

Hanzo scoffed, “You will get my ‘tender touches’ when you deserve them, you brute.”

“ _I’m_  the brute! Yer the one smackin’ lil’ ol’ me when I ain’t got the strength to defend myself!”

Hanzo laughed, plucked Jesse’s hand from his head and held it. “Fine, fine. If you cease spouting ignorant nonsense, I will not smack you anymore.”

“Well now sweetheart,” Jesse said nervously, “that’s ‘bout as good as sayin’ yer gonna hit me every time I open my mouth.”

Hanzo leaned down to press his forehead against Jesse’s. “Then you’d best stop opening it.” The adoration in Hanzo’s voice was nigh overwhelming.

Jesse chuckled and closed his eyes, replying dreamily, “Well I _never_.”

**Author's Note:**

> To anybody that routinely reads my work: I'm _sor rRY Y_ that I keep writing a bunch of random shit instead of the fics I've already got going. I'm honestly trying but like...I literally woke up yesterday, at 8 in the goddamn morning, and started writing this bc I couldn't stop thinking about it. So. Yes.


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